"Invasion routine report: Approaching the Scissor Starfield. Radar detection is being interfered with; effective range has shrunk from two thousand kilometers to thirteen hundred kilometers. No abnormalities within effective range. Invasion report complete..."
Setting down the communicator, the scruffy-bearded communications officer stretched his right leg out onto the console before him and gave himself a satisfying full-body stretch.
"Fuzzy Beard, this is a joint military operation by the four great civilizations. If the higher-ups see you sitting like that, you can roll up that big beard of yours and get out..." Behind him stood a tall, straight figure with arms folded and feet shoulder-width apart. As he studied several radar displays ahead, he spoke without turning his head.
Fuzzy Beard chuckled. "As far as I'm concerned, my only superior is you, Captain. As for everyone else—hmph—even if Kust were standing right in front of us, it wouldn't matter..."
The captain turned and glared at him fiercely. "We're facing the Zerg—a brutal, cunning race with enormous potential. Anywhere along our battleship's route could be an ambush site. As an observer, be careful you don't lead us into a ditch..."
Fuzzy Beard smacked his lips, suddenly missing the taste of a cigar. "Alright, Captain. No matter how formidable the Zerg are, they're only an emerging Level 5 civilization. Surrounded by two established Level 5 civilizations and two Level 6 civilizations, they'd be heroes if they didn't flee with their tails between their legs. An ambush? I doubt it..."
The captain shook his head and looked toward the five planets in the Scissor Starfield. As if something had suddenly occurred to him, he immediately asked, "If I remember correctly, there should be an iron ore resource planet at the edge of the Scissor Starfield..."
Fuzzy Beard nodded. "There is. The closest planet to